


in that frail minute of struggle

by saekhwa



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Bisexual Male Character, F/M, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, relationships are complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 15:16:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15342624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/saekhwa
Summary: The universe had to be fucking with Rick to give him an assassin for a soulmate.





	in that frail minute of struggle

**Author's Note:**

> Depression is a sonuvabitch. I finished this story _last year_ and yet… So anyway, here we are, months and months later. Finally posted. 
> 
> Okay sooooo. For folks used to my [far-in-the-future-everything-is-rainbows domestic series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/558485), let me warn you upfront that this is nothing but angst. It doesn't end with complete and utter devastation, but it's def not happy so no hard feelings if you want to just pass this one on by. 
> 
> A million thanks to Moriavis for cheerleading and helping me refine this story into something better. 
> 
> Thirdly? (Probably fourthly if we're counting paragraphs.) Written for [Poetry Fiction](https://poetry-fiction.dreamwidth.org). Prompt was:
> 
>  _"I saw old melancholy approach my heart,_  
>  _like a wineglass of hatred."_ — Pablo Neruda

They didn't touch. Should've been activated by touch — that was what all the stories had said, why he'd touched June, waiting, hoping for that spark only to get the warmth of it in her smile. 

For him and Lawton, it happened in a split second. Lawton in the middle of some smartass remark about cheerleaders, head angled toward Rick, and Rick's stomach swooped. It took everything in him to keep his knees locked so his legs wouldn't give out. Lawton swayed, catching himself by gripping the edge of the table, a little too close to the hardware that Waller had had Rick lay out for this little test of hers. Even more of one now that all Rick wanted to do was stumble forward and grab hold of Lawton like a drowning man. At least those stories had been true. 

Before either one of 'em could do something stupid, the piss-ant guard—Griggs struck Lawton in the ribs with his rifle. "Hands off the merchandise. Won't tell you again."

And that— 

Reminded Rick he had a job to do. 

He folded his arms over his chest, jaw clenched, fists tight against his ribs when he and Lawton made eye contact again. He exhaled a harsh breath through his nose and was the first to break, nodding toward the table. 

"Let's go. Let's see what you can do," he said, digging his fingers into the soft meat of his palms, letting the points of contact ground him in the here and now, the raw reality of the shitstain universe he'd landed in— 

Another glance Lawton's way, and all he could think was _this_. There wasn't another word to describe it. 

He wondered if Waller knew. 

Whether she'd known didn't matter, though. Either way, she'd use it. Use them. One glance her way was all Rick needed to confirm it. 

~*~

What the fuck was he going to tell June? He didn't have a clue 'til after dinner, when they were holed up in the hotel, when she asked, "What's wrong?" Her fingers on his face, stroking the line of his jaw as she leaned closer, breathing in before brushing the softest kiss to his mouth. 

This, he thought, as he tightened his hands around her hips to draw her even closer, was what he wanted. What he should've got. Not some serial killer-for-hire—

"I found him," came out tight and choked. A guilty confession. 

"Found…?" It didn't take long for the confusion to clear from her eyes. She immediately dropped her hand and stepped back before he could catch hold of her. " _Rick_."

"It…" The lie fouled in his mouth. 

This was one of those nothing-and-everything-had-changed kind of scenarios, but he reached for her hand anyway, catching the tips of her fingers in a loose grip. Another step and he'd be close enough to rest his forehead against hers, kiss her like it would roll back everything that had happened. Kiss her like it was her, had always been her — the one person he was meant to be with. 

She slipped her hand free, saying his name again, sure as good-bye. 

~*~

"He sure is a looker, ain't he?"

The fuck was Harley talking about? Rick glanced at her, but she was staring at the sky, swinging her bat in lazy circles. No one had any clue what was going on in that loony-bin head of hers. She was probably complimenting the windows for all that he gave a shit 'cause it was taking everything in him not to look Lawton's away, not to march over by his side, press in, and close the loop. No one had ever talked about the itch beneath his skin, but then, who'd focus on the bad part of what was supposed to be happily ever after? 

Even June had said it. _"You're meant to be together. In the entire universe, the two of you…"_

It was bullshit. 

It added another layer that Rick had to keep an eye on so no one else in the crew would catch wind that him and Lawton—

Rick rubbed the space between his eyebrows and took stock of the surrounding area. Mission objective was to retrieve Waller and stop Enchantress. Getting June back — that was personal. He needed her to see that the only thing that mattered was her. 

~*~

The first time Lawton grabbed Rick to get him away from those… _things_ , Rick's stomach dropped, a combination of nerves and adrenaline. He'd almost been captured twice, and he didn't know if that was a piece of June trying to get him back or if it was the witch trying to finish the job she'd started down in the tunnels when she'd activated the bomb. 

Rick jerked his arm free, grateful that unlike the rest of these bozos, at least he and Lawton were dressed appropriately for this mission. It meant they hadn't touched, skin to skin, but the back of Rick's neck prickled all the same, the persistent itch flaring down his arms and into his chest. 

Getting attacked on all sides proved a solid enough distraction from it. They were facing overwhelming odds, but Rick grit his teeth and opened fire while Lawton decided to get into a stupid fight with Santana. When Santana let loose…

The video hadn't done it justice. The flames burned through three floors of those things, raising the temp in the room by twenty degrees. A trickle of sweat slid down the side of Rick's face, and all he could think was: this was a mistake. All of it. These goddamn metahumans.

And Waller, when they reached her, still had the gall to say that he'd needed them. He wouldn't have needed shit if she'd followed the evac plan and gotten on the damn truck. But he had a job to finish and arguing with her wasn't going to help him complete the mission. 

Rifle at the ready, he exited the room first, Yamashiro taking up the rear. As expected, Harley, Croc, and Harkness circled up with useless threats. They actually thought they stood a chance. The only excuse Rick could give 'em was that they hadn't seen Waller murder a room full of people just because they hadn't had the clearance. He hung back for the lesson when Waller held Yamashiro back and stepped forward, a solid wall of _don't give a fuck_ and _I dare you_ , her finger on the only trigger she needed. 

What Rick hadn't expected was how keenly he kept an eye on her thumb hovering over Lawton's mugshot. One slip, and Lawton would be gone. On the heels of that — how all of Rick's problems would be solved. There were stories about bonds broken by death, how sometimes, it meant losing everything, but sometimes, it meant a hard reset. A do-over. 

Rick grimaced, almost holding his breath, but Waller didn't pull the trigger. Neither did Lawton when it came down to it. 

~*~

 _June_ , Rick thought, falling 'til his back hit the car. They were gone, and with them his chances of getting her back.

It took Rick a long, hard second to collect himself before he crouched and picked up the binder, dropping it on the hood of the car so he could flip through it and see what else Waller had been tracking. Of course Lawton was in it, Santana, Harley… But when he reached Yamashiro, he flipped faster, and there, nested between Yamashiro and Enchantress was Rick. His graduation records, psych evals, him and June in the mission reports and analysis like he was just another variable in assessing June's ability to do what needed doing. 

A whole goddamn biography—

The car rocked when Rick slammed his fist down onto it. A dull pain throbbed up his arm a second later, and he squeezed his eyes shut, bowing his head. His breath came up short with the quiet gratitude that welled up that he and Lawton weren't in here. But probably only because Waller hadn't had enough time to exploit their bond yet. 

But — jaw set as he stared at the path they'd taken through the rubble — he could.

~*~

He planted his ass in the stool next to Lawton, hunching his shoulders. He wasn't an idiot. He hadn't lost sight of the fact that he was in a room full of psychos, murderers, and cannibals, and they all had eyes on him. 

Casting a wary look around the room, he made eye contact with those of 'em in his immediate vicinity. None of 'em looked away. 

And Lawton… Wouldn't make eye contact in the first place. Not 'til Rick asked about his own chapter in Waller's binder.

Lawton nodded. Said, "Yeah."

Rick looked at him and… His fingers twitched, but he held them firm against his own palms so he wouldn't hook 'em in Lawton's sleeve and drag him close. This wouldn't work if he had to touch Lawton 'cause he couldn't account for how he might react. What he had to do was make a deal. One better than the one he'd offered Lawton before, 'cause if he got Lawton, the rest of 'em would fall in line. Or enough of 'em to make this mission count.

All Lawton gave, though, was a wry, "I never been with a witch before. What's that like?"

And all Rick had was the truth. The only woman he'd ever cared about because he'd read their files, too. They all had something, much as they'd tried denying it. 

Lawton didn't flinch. Just nodded like it all made sense. Like he recognized the same thing Rick had — whatever the universe had designed, the two of them weren't going to happen. 

The reality of it should have clenched cold and hard in Rick's gut, but he focused on what he _could_ have instead. 

"If I don't stop the witch, it's over," he said. "Everything is over." The truth of it settled deep in his bones when he repeated, more softly, "Everything," like it was a promise. Knowing he couldn't keep it. 

The last piece he needed settled something he'd known since he'd watched them walk away. 

He straightened in his seat, said, "You're free to go," and smashed the only thing holding them all back. He flung the tablet over the bar and watched it clatter to the floor, hoping it was enough of a sacrifice that… 

He held his breath and waited. Harkness was the first one to get up and run. No hesitation. Rick didn't look around the room but waited for the rest to follow suit. When they didn't, Rick laid out the rest — the letters, the truth that Waller wouldn't've had in that binder of hers. 

He stared at the stamps, at Zoe's handwriting on the envelopes in neat, block letters, wondering what he'd say if Lawton asked why he'd kept them. Wondering if a part of him had known, a part of his _soul_ or whatever mumbo-jumbo scientists had come up with to explain this connection between two strangers. This bond. It had always sounded like a load of bullshit, but Rick was banking on it now, with Lawton standing in front of him, clutching the letters in a fist, full of disbelief and a simmering rage that Rick understood all too well. 

It was why he didn't flinch when Lawton grabbed him. A punch was the least he could take if it meant they'd help him. 

But Lawton only pointed at him. Promised, "I'm gonna get you there."

Rick almost touched him then, skin to skin, but let his hand fall as he nodded. 

~*~

When Enchantress said, "I know what you want," Rick knew what was coming. "Exactly what you want…" 

It felt like a fog rolling in. The world slipped away slow, but he had the mental fortitude to beat this 'cause he'd done nothing but train since the world started to discover all the wild shit lurking beneath the surface, living alongside the rest of 'em this whole time. He'd see June, he knew, hail and hearty, and he'd see it for the lie that it was. All he had to do was focus on the plan, ride out the vision, and get everyone else to snap out of it. 

He blinked…

…He opened his eyes and the sheets— 

Cotton. And damn. Soft against his cheek. It had that crisp linen smell from June's damn detergent. Even knowing it was a dream, Rick still fisted a handful of the sheets, turned his head to press his nose into them, and breathed in. His heart raced from the sensory feedback of a warm, summer morning, birds chirping in the background. He could even hear a dog barking. 

The witch was too damn powerful. All the more reason he had to pull himself out and stop the others from falling too deep. 

A hand swept over his shoulder. It felt odd. But it confirmed for him that this was a dream. None of this was real—

"Hey, man."

Rick's breath seized in his lungs, twisting so vicious in his chest that he gasped as he followed the tug. Didn't have any choice. He rolled onto his back and stared up at Lawton, whose brows were furrowed, whose broad hand was still wrapped firm around Rick's shoulder. 

"You're not June," Rick choked out. 

Lawton grinned. "Having sex dreams, huh?" He settled alongside Rick, propping his head in his palm and resting his other hand flat against Rick's chest. "Guess that's better than the nightmares. So…" He trailed his hand slow, making the muscles in Rick's stomach jump, and when he stopped at the waistband of Rick's shorts, Rick nearly choked, staring down in horror when his cock twitched. "You gonna give me the down and dirty?"

The tremble that had started in Rick's chest turned into a full-on shudder. He didn't want _this_. The witch had gotten it wrong, but Rick—

Lawton's leer immediately dropped as he sat up, cupping Rick's face with both hands, shifting even closer, his thigh pressing against Rick's, warm and solid and _real_. 

"Rick," he said, soft, like a prayer. 

Rick answered with a strangled sound, shaking so hard that his teeth chattered. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Lawton said, moving his thumbs in a steady rhythm over Rick's cheeks. "Stay with me. Breathe with me."

It took too long and not long enough for Rick to melt into it, to let the rise and fall of their synchronized breathing turn the man above him from Lawton to Floyd, to steadily become aware of the fact that he _had_ been dreaming. His eyes burned as he raised a trembling hand. He didn't think he'd reach Floyd's cheek, but he managed it somehow, and Floyd's hand covering his anchored him further. Floyd's stubble was rough against his palm, and his fingers twitched when Floyd's muscles shifted with his smile. 

"You with me?" Floyd asked. 

Rick nodded. Couldn't remember why he'd fought so damn hard, why he'd been so certain… 

He nodded again, the laugh that finally burst free wet and shaky. He slid his hand to the back of Floyd's neck before he thought about it. He tugged at the same time he lifted himself, bracing his weight on his elbow, but Floyd resisted, his concern breaking into a wide grin. 

"You want a kiss, you should brush your damn teeth," Floyd said, but still leaned in and set his mouth to Rick's. 

And god— 

It was everything Rick needed to ground him in the here and now, to exhale the choked sound and let the rest of that damn nightmare go as he folded, thumping his head against Floyd's shoulder, holding Floyd as close as he could while their connection shuddered through him like a hard reset. 

"I—" 

Too much clogged Rick's throat. At the foundation of it all, an apology that he couldn't quite give voice to. So he raised his head and kissed Floyd's shoulder, his jawline, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. 

"Nah, I'm serious," Floyd said, planting a hand to the center of Rick's chest. "Brush your teeth. Then we can make out all you want."

"Yeah," Rick rasped, grinning. Everything felt right, so he stole another kiss, pressing it quick and hard to Floyd's mouth. "I'll make us breakfast."

"Damn right you're gonna make breakfast," Floyd muttered, the stroke of his thumb along Rick's jaw soft and warm. 

Rick caught his hand and pressed a kiss to the tops of Floyd's fingers as he shut his eyes and breathed in the moment. 

"And I'll—" he tried to say. 

Only to get interrupted by a distant, "It's not real."

He glanced at the door, frowning. He only had to look up to feel and see and hear Floyd, clear as day, their connection thrumming beneath his skin. "Did you hear—"

"It's not real!"

The room split, Floyd turning jagged as the smell of smoke and asphalt and rain filled the room. 

"He's…" _Wrong_ , Rick thought. This was real. So damn real that he— Almost. He almost—

He had to close his eyes again, curling his fingers around Floyd, but the dream drifted from beneath his fingertips. The warm weight vanished to the cold ache from all the fights that had led them here. He grit his teeth, focusing on the bruises and the hollow, sinking feeling that had settled in his chest. He skirted a glance toward Floyd—Lawton, but he didn't make it. He only saw Lawton's boots before he looked away again, choking down what the witch had offered. She hadn't known what he'd wanted at all. 

"It's not real," Santana repeated.

But killing the witch was. The sense of victory when Lawton took the shot. Maybe that feeling of accomplishing the impossible was what made Rick do the stupidest thing yet. He threw his arms around Lawton. 

When his cheek touched Lawton's, he gasped and held on tight, the electric sensation of their connection arcing between them, looping in a complete circuit that made Rick's heart stutter. It was just like the dream, so visceral and present, that Rick could smell the damn sheets again, was about to turn his head and kiss Floyd. 

He hadn't even caught his breath when Lawton planted a hand against his chest and shoved him so hard that he stumbled, forced to retreat several steps before he caught his balance. 

"I don't do hugs," Lawton said, tight and strained. 

But Rick just had to look at him to know, to want to press in close again and admit that she'd fucked with him, too. Maybe they'd even shared the same vision… 

Whatever Rick had thought of saying or doing didn't matter. Waller reminded them that not a single one of 'em was free. 

~*~

She whispered, "Enchantress," eyes squeezed shut as she held his hand. 

When she opened them, they were hers. All of her hearty and whole. 

She threw her arms around him, shaking with the tears he could feel trickling down his throat. They stood there a long time, Rick rubbing her back until she settled and drew away. 

Her cheeks were blotchy, eyes puffy and red as she laughed, brushing away the rest of the tears coating her face. Rick stepped away to grab the box of tissues. 

She murmured, "Thank you," as she took them, grabbing one after the other to wipe at her face. 

Rick wanted to kiss her but didn't. 

Must've shown on his face 'cause she looked up, away, and then back at him, gaze piercing as she asked, "Do you still love me?"

Rick's pulse jumped. He felt it in his hands first and could still feel the heat from crushing Enchantress' heart. 

June knew the answer. She had to know what the witch had done. What she'd shown Rick and Lawton and—

"Yes," Rick said. 

She looked away, down at his hands, and all he could do was wait for the second question to follow — an inevitable _what about him?_

She didn't voice it, though, and a part of Rick was grateful for that. For this. The only future he could be certain of, even though he was building it on a foundation that wouldn't hold. June would stand on it with him, at least for now. So that night, at least, they didn't talk, just held each other while she whispered Enchantress like she might still come back and Rick avoided sleep like the dream of Floyd might haunt him, too. 

Neither one of them could avoid the days that followed, though. Not when Waller quarantined June for tests and came through on her promises to the squad, sending Rick out to haul Lawton to his kid. Rick had to stand and watch 'em and try his damndest not to listen only for his attention to be drawn again and again like a high tide about to drown him. 

He let the Marshals cuff Lawton, but he was the one to take Lawton's elbow, squeezing a little too hard as he led Lawton outside, marching him toward the van that'd put him back in Belle Reve. 

Lawton shuffled along without a word, not 'til he slid across the bench and Rick climbed in after him. 

"I kept my end of the deal," Lawton said, ducking his head so he could force eye contact. "You gonna keep yours?"

Rick could've just said yes — would've been easier — but he reached for Lawton instead. The first brush of Rick's fingertips to Lawton's knuckles had Rick sucking in a breath, swaying forward as their connection moved, still bright and electric. Like everything the stories said it'd be and nowhere close at the same time. 

So Rick couldn't compute the sight of Lawton lunging, not even for the open doors, where he could've tried, and failed, to escape, but deeper into the van, one foot raised. 

"Don't," Lawton said, voice as ragged as Rick's breaths felt. "Don't do that again."

Took a hard second for Rick to reboot, shaking away the haze as he clenched his jaw. He exhaled hard through his nose and pointed at the chain. "I gotta…" 

He let the rest speak for itself and waited. Lawton didn't drop his foot, eyes darting back and forth, even at the open door behind Rick. _Don't_ , Rick almost said but kept his mouth shut as he waited Lawton out. 

"Get someone else," Lawton said. "One of the Marshals."

Rick— Unclenched his jaw and squared his shoulders. "You gonna explain to them why? You don't think Waller has one of them— _All_ of them in her damn pocket?"

Rick stared Lawton down, and Lawton stared at the door like he was willing to take the risk. It set Rick on a whirlwind of contingency plans until Lawton finally settled on the bench and shoved his clenched hands at Rick, his head turned and his eyes squeezed shut. Rick was careful not to touch as he secured Lawton's chains to the hook in the floor. 

"I'll keep the letters," he finally said, and looked up, but couldn't meet Lawton's eyes, not with his skin still itching and his heart lurching like it could force him to close the gap. 

"Good," was all Lawton said, and turned his whole body, as much of it as he could, away from Rick. 

Why the fuck had Rick— His own jaw clenched, he slid out of the van, took one last look at Lawton, and shut the doors. He rested his forehead on the seam of them, hands so tight around the handles that he thought he could hear the metal creak. 

It was only when he heard one of the Marshals say, "Prisoner secured," that he walked away, doing his damndest not to walk right back and come up with a better plan than never touching each other again. 

He held his ground, though, all the way to the prison, leading Lawton straight up to his cell, knowing all of this was a temporary measure anyway 'cause they were bound — in more ways than one — to see each other again.


End file.
